The Road Home
by J-Rex
Summary: The remaining knights after Badon Hill go back to Sarmatia to bring their families back to the relative safety of Briton. Tristan/OC Gawain/OC Lancelot/OC Galahad/OC Bors/Vanora Arthur/Guinevere
1. Chapter 1

**Don't own anything you recognize, but I do own my original characters**

The story begins six months after the movie ends. Happy reading! Hope you like it!

* * *

Gawain turned the metal ring over and over in his hands; it had the crude markings of the Antes' chieftain.

"You bring that to the elders,"

Bors thrust his pudgy finger at the ring in Gawains' hand and forced him to look up

", and they will find Dagonet's family. There should be a boy Lancelot's age and a girl a few summers younger than Galahad. My mother's sister died while birthing the girl, though there was rumor right before the romans came that Lau had impregnated one of the widows."

A guffaw flew out of his mouth as he elbowed Lancelot in the ribs

"Anyway, the two younglings are my only concern; my ma was on her way out when they took me everyone else is dead."

Gawain nodded and clasped Bors arm before he slid onto the back of his horse, tying the ring onto a leather cord around his neck.

"You really think they won't come here for them?" Galahad looked at Bors warily.

"It is their only chance."

Arthur stepped into the stables and answered Galahads question solemnly. He face was lined with worry as he watched the men, some just recently healed from extraordinary wounds, climb onto their horses and fiddle with straps. He pulled the tiny leather pouches out and shook them a little. He wished there were more coin to give them for their journey.

"This is all I may offer you." One by one they took the proffered coins, knowing to deny their leader this would cause much more pain than the pride they may loose in taking his handout.

When Arthur got to Tristan he pulled a scroll out of his pack and handed it to him.

"This is the most recent map of the cities, you may find it useful."

Tristan inclined his head slowly, feeling the tug of the large scar that now marred his back. He didn't need the map, fifteen years or fifty he would know the ways back to his home.

A flash of white blond hair made Lancelot clear his throat.

"Do you mind waiting another few moments? I have something to attend to."

Galahad huffed but Gawain put a restraining hold on his arm.

"Fine, but we should leave before mid day. Make it quick."

Smiling widely Lancelot jumped down from his horse and strode towards the kitchens.

"Well, I'll just speak then, otherwise we may not be able to leave until a fortnight from now."

The echo of Bors laughter stayed with him as he rounded the corner and peaked through an old wooden door with the smell of baking bread behind it.

"I am not your lover Lancelot and I would appreciate it if you stopped trying to convince the fort of that at every turn."

Lainey jabbed a finger into the dark knight's chest and without so much as a pause for breath she continued.

"I pulled a Saxon sword out of your shoulder, a hands breadth lower and you would be dead. I didn't nurse you back to health for three moons just to watch you ride off for gods know how long." Her voice got quiet at the end; as if she remembered who she was she looked down at her feet and made to curtsey.

"What is this?! Don't stop now; I've never heard you give such a speech. It was wonderful, to know you'll miss me and care for me."

He reached a hand to stroke the curvy blond's cheek and winked; she batted him away with a light smile.

"You men, I think I shall miss you. Thank you for coming to say goodbye to me, you didn't have to."

Her cheeks blushed a bit as she watched his incredulous stare.

"As you said, you nursed me back to health for almost four moons I owe you much more than a goodbye, although, you won't let me tup you. I fear we will be gone for more than half the year, I suspect we will be back just in time to reap harvest and prepare for winter. I will miss you, Lainey, here."

He pulled a small wooden horse from his pocket.

"I made this for one of Bors brood but I think you may appreciate it a bit more."

Not giving her time to say thank you he pulled her close for a long hug. Rocking a bit with her warmth he reluctantly pulled away and kissed the top of her head.

Without another word he turned away and trotted back to the stables as fast as he could, the wind carried a whisper of her farewell words.

"Be safe…"

He wondered to himself why he had lied and said he had made the figure for one of Bors children.

Sighing at Tristan and Galahads impatient looks he threw himself onto the back of the mare and the six of them began to ride in silence.

Once they reached the edge of the wood, Bors and Arthur drew back and offered a loud "RUSSSS" as a farewell for their brothers.

Lainey wiped a hand over her brow and pushed her hair out of her face. Pulling the door to her room closed she leaned heavily on the stone wall. Sighing heavily her thoughts drifted towards Lancelot, exactly what she'd been working so hard not to think about.

_No need to worry, there's nothing you can do but pray now._

Pushing herself off the wall Lainey walked over to the small hearth shaking her head at Emily and Annalice's unmade beds. Blankets and dresses were scattered on the floor, a few ribbons and a bone comb on their small side table. Lainey didn't mind sharing the small room with the two other girls, their hey stuffed beds were comfortable enough. Emily and Annalice were seamstresses for the Roman's, now the Queen and King, and Lainey was a Kitchen maid, sometimes assisted the healers if it was needed.

She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled the small but intricately detailed wooden horse out. Stroking the little figurine she allowed her self to fantasize a little about what it could be like.

_His hands pushed back her hair and framed her face. He smiled that crooked smile and whispered her name. She reached up and tangled her hand in the hair on the back of his neck pulling his lips closer. After a long moment he closed the gap and…_

"Lainey, where were you?!" Emily burst through the door with Annalice at her heel, both of the raven haired girls pulled their patchwork shawls off and threw them to the floor unceremoniously.

"We went to the tavern after we finished the Lady Guinevere's new dresses." Annalice curtsied dramatically and plopped down on the floor next to Lainey.

"Don't speak that way about the new queen, she may be Woad but she's certainly better than the Romans." Lainey chastised and tried to slip the horse into her pocket quietly but Emily snatched it up quickly and raised her eyebrows.

"You're right about that, and her dresses are much more interesting. What is this? Did you steal this from one of Vanora's children?" Emily knew exactly where she had gotten it from, though; she had seen the man carving it the past few days.

"I….the knights left today." Lainey stated simply, trying in vain to change the subject.

"Yes…and someone gave you a token…" Annalice's chestnut eye's sparkled as she drew the last word out. The two girls looked at her expectantly, their thin frames leaning closer and closer.

Finally Lainey sighed.

"Ok…Lancelot gave it to me…but he said he had made it for one of Vanora's children so it's not that big of a deal…" She snatched it away from Emily and pushed it back into the pocket of her apron and stood feeling embarrassed.

Emily touched her arm and looked at her knowingly. "Just be careful, he's gone back to his homeland…maybe to claim a wife. Don't be expecting anything if he comes back."

Lainey looked at Emily angry and embarrassed.

"I know...I'm going to sleep. Goodnight."

Stalking over to her little corner of the room she dipped her little rag into the cool water bowl and wiped her face and arms before pulling her hair into a smooth bun that she secured with a ribbon. She took off her overdress and pulled off her boots , settling into bed she heard Emily and Annalice do the same and blow the beeswax candles out, just the slight glow of the hearth lighting the room.

Lainey leaned over and pulled the horse out of her apron. Stroking it she smiled a little, she could dream about whatever she wanted to, realistic or not. She knew where she stood in comparison to all the other women at the fort, and who knew what beauties awaited him in his homeland. How could a short blond kitchen maid whose body was built to bear children compete with these ethereal beauties? Someday a man would come along who loved her as she was and wouldn't prefer her any other way.

Tonight, though, she would dream of one that gives her tokens meant for children.


	2. Chapter 2

**Don't own anything you recognize, but I do own my original characters**

This chapter is supposed to be a few months after the last, let me know if there's any confusion and I'll try to clear it up. Enjoy!

* * *

Dawn broke over the rolling grasslands.

The four riders looked out onto the lands they were born into, the calm sighs almost identical.  
Their thoughts, though, were very different.

The braided tattooed man pondered how far north he and his companion would have to ride.

_Father must be dead, mother was ill with the fever, maybe Sonia will have survived…not the brothers._

He didn't dare think their names.

Lancelot wasn't thinking about his family, well, not in the way you would suppose.

_I wish…she…was here. Mother would have liked her. I wonder if she would think this was beautiful._

The youngest of them thought of a lost love. An auburn haired beauty, running through a shallow river towards him.

_She'll be married by now, with children. I can't have a son with her; they'll take him like they took me. If I can get her to Briton, they're afraid of it, they won't come after us. Hopefully…_

His cousin thought only of getting home.

_This air is different, it's clear. Two days ride south east and we'll be near our lands, who will we see first I wonder. Hopefully we won't run into the Carpians. _

Lancelot was the first to break the silence that hung like a fog between them.

"In one moons time we will meet there, at that river, two days ride for you?"

Gawain turned from studying the shape of the land, the signs that he would see in a month.

"Maybe three, south east, if you run into any trouble head down. You know what to ask for, who to avoid."

Tristan nodded and looked to the north contemplatively.

"We will be more north than east, my families tribal lands first."

Galahad stifled back a surprised laugh and clapped the man he got along with least on the shoulder.

_Two Bastarnae looking for a Venedi and a Fenni, my grandfathers' ashes are stirring._

"Thank you brother, one moons cycle."

They all nodded and left in pairs.

* * *

It took three day's for Lancelot and Tristan to find anyone from their tribes. Lancelot was a Fenni, Tristan a Venedi. Their tribes didn't quite love each other, but they traded sometimes and the Venedi would know where to find Lancelot's family.

Tristan raised his fist to signal Lancelot to stop; they scanned the sparse forest feeling multiple sets of eyes on them.

Tristan tested the water by letting out a loud series of whistles, long short long with a flourish at the end.

In response they heard a bowstring tighten.

Lancelot decided to give it a shot, giving Tristan a skeptical look he held his hands in the air and called out a traditional greeting for one who is coming home from a long hunt.

"It has been fifteen years since I saw you last; I hope the gods of the sun, wind and rain have blessed you and the bucks flesh become a decoration for your home."

After a long tense moment a rustle of bushes closer than either of the men expected startled them. Tristan looked at the woman curiously and a little annoyed with himself.

A bundle of curly black hair was piled on the top of her head secured by a leather strip winding around, curls framing her face. She wore the traditional sarmatian dress, a long sleeved green woolen dress with another smaller piece of wool secured on her right shoulder by a brooch made of what Tristan thought might be a stag's antlers.

She did not lower her bow, but her eye's widened when she saw the hash marks on his cheeks.

Her eye's darted quickly to his companion and her face softened making her look almost child-like. Her bow slackened and she lowered it.

"My family, my friend, though our parting was sad our reunion shall be blessed by the gods above."

She turned and gave a low whistle and called out. Two men fell from the tree's and a boy of about ten years stood out of some bramble a few feet ahead of them.

Tristan sucked in a breath, the boy before him looked exactly like his father and bore the same hash marks that were on his cheek bones.

Jumping from his horse Lancelot slowly stepped towards the woman, a silent question in his eyes.

She smiled widely and pulled her sleeve back revealing the twin to the tattoo Lancelot bore around his forearm. Three lines ranging from thick to thin wound around her arm.

He reached a hand up to touch the scar that ran from under her eye to her jaw line and the features on her face hardened.

"Aanya"

"Lancelot"

Quickly they embraced and a laugh like Tristan had never heard before came from Lancelot's lips.

One of the men from the tree's coughed and stirred behind them. Tristan glared at them sharply but the damage was already done. Lancelot and his sister ended their embrace and she whistled sharply, four horses trotted into view and Tristan saw the reason he was so surprised by the girl and boy. The noises he had heard, the shadows he had seen weren't the four people who began pulling themselves onto the horses strung with dead deer and a few pheasants. It was the horses who betrayed their position and Tristan was both impressed and proud of his people.

Without a word the small group began to trot towards the edge of the forest, Tristan and Lancelot following behind. The youngest of them, the boy with tattoos like Tristan kept falling back, looking back to these strangers one so very familiar.

"You will wait for your sister Raif."

The boy huffed at Aanya and trotted up to lead the group, she dropped back and while talking to her brother, eyed the Venedi.

"Kay?"

Lancelot bowed his head and shook it sadly. Kay was the other boy taken from his tribe; he was older and had a pregnant wife. He died in their seventh year.

Lancelot eyed his sister, other than the scar she looked ok. Thought not like she'd given birth, she was too slight. He did not suspect one of the men with this hunting party to be her partner but he worried why she had no one and if this was the cause of the scar.

Aanya watched her brother with a sly smile, he was sizing her up. She knew he would have guessed that she had no family, but why? Or why the Venedi were with them on a hunting party, he would never guess. Before she could begin to explain his companion broke through her thoughts.

"How far?"

She started for a moment, her train of thought thrown. This man, certainly Tristan, was not the kind eyed silent boy she had expected. There was a hardness to him, something she saw daily with his sister, a family trait perhaps.

"We will be back at camp before nightfall."

Lancelot looked over to Tristan and gave him a curt nod and with a sigh Tristan pushed his horse faster, thinking maybe he could get a good look at the boy.

Once they were relatively alone his dark eyes bore into hers.

"Tell me, about the scar, about our family, about the Venedi? What has happened?"

And with a deep breath, Aanya began to tell him of the past fifteen years.


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't own anything you recognize, but I do own my original characters**

This chapter picks up right where the last left off! Enjoy!

A/N: I'm going with the theory that only the Sarmatian Calvary's son's were taken into service and only the firstborn sons. Also when I say "___moons" I'm talking about a month and "half a cycle" is half of a moons cycle so two weeks or so. Also, going with the realization that the average age for weaning a child off of the mothers milk at that time was probably more like four years old, not trying to make a statement just going with what I've learned. Thanks! :)

A/N 2: Sorry, but I just also wanted to explain my idea for how they came up with 'marrying age'. For men it was after their fifteenth summer unless the father chose to hold them back, for the women it was after their third cycle(period). Again, this is just what makes the most sense to me considering the time period. Ok, thanks again! :) :) :)

* * *

"After they took you mama was inconsolable. She would wander in the middle of the night wailing.

Father sent me away for awhile, if it wasn't under those circumstances I would have been excited, my first hunting trip."

Lancelot burst into a quick grin

"When we got back mama was gone. She wandered off in the middle of the night and no one could find her. She didn't even take a horse, and she covered her tracks. A few moons later they found her in the forest to the south. She had been dead a few days. I think all the dead babies between you and me, plus the two after my birth and then the Romans taking you…it snapped her."

Aanya checked her brother, she knew she needed to tell him as much as possible before they got back to camp but she didn't want to overwhelm him. He nodded thoughtfully and motioned for her to continue, but she could see the veiled pain in his eyes.

"After that, I spent most of my days with Kay's wife and the new baby, a boy. Father stopped speaking and would leave for half a cycle or more with no word on where he was going. The Roman's came again a few summers after that, started measuring Kay's boy, talking about how big he needed to be for them to take him. When he was eight summers old Father rode in, apparently he had been with the Venedi and they had a boy the same age as Kay's son and another a few summers younger and the Roman's said they were coming for them. They wanted to fight them."

"What??" Lancelot gasped, rage seeping into his vision. His own father gives him up without a fight but another tribe's son a few summers younger was something to fight for?

"Shh, let me finish. These boys were only a few summers from their mother milk, the one in the Venedi's tribe wasn't even a cavalry's son. Just a young boy, and other things too, they began talking about taking the girls…me."

She paused and looked warily ahead.

"Your companions sister, and she wasn't even…never mind. We had to fight back, so we combined forces, combined camps. It was a disaster though, they killed Kay's wife and son, they other boys. There were….sacrifices…made for the women. I tried to stop it but the elders had taken us away, held us so we couldn't get back to help fight."

She touched her scar tenderly and shook her head.

"After that a few Romans were posted with us for a few seasons, to make sure we stayed in line. One tried to force himself on...another girl; I defended her and took the punishment."

Aanya took a deep breath as she saw the camp peeking over the horizon.

"By the next spring most of the elders had been made examples of, Father included. Most of the young men have had to grow up fast.  
I dearly hope you didn't come here hoping to be welcomed like kings.  
At best they'll admire you from a distance maybe ask for a little advice or a story, but most likely they'll resent you showing up too late.  
It hasn't been that long since the Romans left us.  
It would save a lot of trouble if you told your companion that, too."

Lancelot sighed and rubbed his forehead, this was going to get complicated.

"He's been listening this whole time."

Aanya's head snapped to the smirking man riding well out of hearing range. That would get annoying very quickly.

As they got closer to the camp, Raif called out to Aanya.

"I'm going to spread the word."

Aanya nodded silently and they all picked up the pace a bit as the boy sprinted towards the camp.

A few moments later Aanya watched as Raif pulled his sister out of their tent and pointed to the group.

Tristan's horse sped up almost instantaneously at the sight of her. She was three the last time he saw her, her long black hair in braids so similar to how she wore it now.

The moment his gray eyes met hers she knew who he was. That was something they all shared, the three left of their family, those stormy gray eyes.

After a moment Raif was no longer tugging her along, gradually getting faster she broke into a sprint when he jumped from his horse and began running to her.

Less than a moment later he had her in his arms, swinging her around tears cascading down their cheeks.

Sonia pulled away and touched her brother's face, so like her fathers, so like Raif's.

His mouth pulled into a wide smile and traced the tattoo's that were identical to all Venedi's.

Reaching behind her Sonia pulled Raif up to her chest tucking his head under her chin.

A warmth and sweetness began to spread through her chest. Her family, however small and decimated, was finally back together.

"Raif, this is our brother Tristan."

* * *

"Finally!" Tatiana whispered as the three riders came into view. Her son had gone on his daily path, scouting for the two boys that had been taken from their tribe almost sixteen years ago. Her face lit up with joy as her eldest came into view, the curly dark hair he shared with his father flapping in the wind.

The sight of the flaxen haired man next to him gave her heart a small tug as she remembered her brother and his wife, long lost to rampant fever.

A hand tugged on her arm and she looked over to see her husband's eye's proud and strong as usual but for the first time in what felt like years she saw hope.

"Gawain!!" the scream from the pregnant woman was unmistakable. Railen ran as fast as her body would allow.

Gawain looked up from his conversation with his cousin, Brenton.

He had just finished catching them up, however quickly, on the past fifteen years. There was a lot more death than Gawain thought, a lot more fighting between the southern tribes.

He smiled a bittersweet smile, his parents and brother were gone but his sister had found a man. Even though he also was gone now, the child she carried symbolized a future for their family.

He jumped from his horse and embraced her pulling her out to arms length and getting a good look at her.

"Railen, you look beautiful."

"I look like a heifer!" She exclaimed laughing a little and throwing an arm over her little brother.

Galahad jumped off his horse and ran into the love and safety of his mothers arms. He felt the last bit of anger and bitterness he'd been holding on to flow from his veins at her touch.

His relief at the knowledge of his families survival over these years was overwhelming, he couldn't help but tear up at the words his father whispered into his ear.

"You have brought honor to our name, son."

* * *

That night the fire burned brightly and the whole tribe gathered to welcome the returning sons.

Apparently Galahads mother had been so confident of their return that she had been brewing dandelion wine for the past year in preparation for this night.

The day had gone by fast; the joyful welcomes short lived before the work began. They spent the rest of the day building new tents, telling stories and listening to a long re-telling of ancient battles.

After the sunlight faded they lit the bon fire and began what Galahad referred to as the parade of potential wives.

Gawain and Galahad didn't remember the yearly ritual. They had been too young when they left to see it for themselves.

At the end of the night, after the fire's embers began to die down and the small children drifted off to sleep the young men of marrying age gathered around one side of the fire. Gawain and Galahad were not the oldest men there, but they were not the youngest by far.

The youngest was a boy who had just reached his fifteenth summer, the oldest a man of thirty four.

The marrying traditions in the Bastarnae tribe were a little different than some of the other tribes. The reasons for marrying or not were entirely up to the couple.

There was no pre-arrangement; and to marry, the couple had to petition in front of the tribal elders explaining why they wanted it. Then, after a small deliberation they would give their blessing.

The only time either of the men could remember the blessing being revoked was when the elders had found signs of abuse on the woman.

While the men sat around the fire drinking dandelion wine the women of marrying age would come out and sing a song. Sometimes it was a song of celebration after war, sometimes a lullaby, but always something dear to the tribe's heart.

After the women finished the men would pour them goblets of wine and perform a traditional dance of celebration, complete with chants and sometimes even an animal skin drum.

Then the women would re-fill their goblets and each woman would feed each man (barring relation) a sip of wine from their goblet.

While all this happened the older couples, usually the parents of the young men and women, would watch and clap and remember when they did this to each other.

After each man took a sip from each woman's goblet, the ritual was done and they would spend the rest of the night singing and dancing and drinking, usually until the sun began to creep into the morning sky.

As Galahad eyed a young auburn haired girl he remembered from his dreams he threw his arm around his cousin's shoulders.

"Why are you sulking man? The beautiful sarmatian women we always spoke of are surrounding us. That one over there, I used to dream about her."

Gawain shrugged Galahads arm off and gave him a small smile.

"Mine isn't here."

He shrugged and laughed at Galahads frozen form.

"I'm not trying to be difficult, cousin. I looked every maid in the eye tonight and," he swept a hand across his eyes "nothing. They are beautiful, but none are meant for me."

Galahad laughed and punched Gawain lightly on the shoulder.

"Say what you will, I'll not go back to Briton empty handed."

With a last pitying look back he sauntered over to his auburn beauty.


	4. Authors Note

Authors Note!

Sorry it's been to long, I had a little lull where I had no idea what I wanted to do with the story.

Then I figured it out and my computer decided to poop out on me.

Then I got it fixed but I lost all my notes and the next few chapters I had written.

So I've been trying to get all the notes I made re-written and flush out a few of the characters, not really sure where it's going at the moment but I'm going to try to update at least once a week or so.

Thanks to whoever is still reading!


	5. Chapter 4

**Nothing you recognize belongs to me.**

* * *

Chapter 4

The ground crunched rhythmically under Gawain's boots. Sometime in the early morning Railen's birthing pains had started. It was now nearly mid day and it didn't seem like things were going very easy. A hand on his arm made him jump higher than he ever had before.

"Peace, nephew." Tatiana's gentle face probed his. "Night is coming; you must know what it means for her to have the pains for this long."

Gawains face fell and he dropped to his knees.

"There must be some small hope aunt. Some way to help her? A healer in another camp? I will ride out."

A scream broke into the hard silence, earning a heartbreaking groan from Gawain.

Tatiana drew a deep breath and put her hands on the side of his face.

"Earlier this morning she began bleeding. Now it's so heavy, we're not sure if the baby is still alive. She is beginning to push and it won't be long after that before her blood flows freely."

Tears streamed freely down his cheeks as Galahad approached the sad group. His mother turned to him and pulled him into a tight embrace, instinctively he knew if he let her go she would fall apart.

Gawain nodded and gathered his strength, he hadn't let anyone die alone the entire time he was sworn to Rome and he wasn't going to start now.

The familiar scent of blood filled his nose as he stepped into the tent. His sisters blond hair pasted to the bed as rivets of sweat poured down her face.

He looked over to the elderly woman worrying over her knees and gestured for her to leave.

"Gawain" The name was breathed so soft he wasn't sure he heard her.

"Rae"

"I'm so scared….I can feel the baby trying to be free but the blood…"

Gawain went over to her and poured a fresh cup of water into her mouth and over her hair. Smoothing her face he kissed her forehead.

"I'll be here until it's over, love. I'll never leave you."

* * *

Aanya watched the brothers from her place weaving with one of the elders. As she shuttled another gray thread through the loom she caught what she didn't know was a rare smile from this man her brother had fought besides for fifteen years.

"Tristan" she breathed almost silently, but not silently enough. She soon found she had garnered the attention of the elderly matchmaker spinning thread.

"Keep dreaming girl."

Aanya's cheeks reddened and she focused intently on her loom.

"I won't pretend to know what you are speaking of."

The old woman tisked beside her and pointed to their differing tattoo's.

"You may have weaseled your way into our tribe while we were under attack. Seduced that there man's brother, but you were no wife. There will never be a match made between our tribes."

The old woman pointed at her cheeks and her forearms.

"There will never be a child with both of our markings. The gods looked favorably upon us when they washed that child out of you."

"You mean old hag!"

A high shrill scream sounded from behind them and Aanya looked into the young girl's eyes sharply shaking her head.

Sonia walked up quickly and kissed Aanya on both cheeks, ignoring her pleading looks.

"She was more of a family to me when my brothers were taken than any of my own tribe! Least of all you! My brother loved her, your kinsman gave his life for her and you best not forget that."

The old woman began puttering and standing dropping the roving to the ground.

"You mind your manners young lady."

Sonia stepped between the woman and Aanya raising a finger to the woman's face.

"I am neither young or a lady, and you will show respect to one who took in a small child and his sister even though she sees her dead husband in our eyes every time she looks at us. This woman has suffered through more than you can ever imagine and still she takes care of anyone who needs help, no matter their tribe. You should be honored that such a woman deems you a help."

"That's enough Sonia, I am not without fault."

Aanya pulled the young girl to her chest and kissed her cheek.

"I don't think I need anymore help, Sonia and I will finish up."

The old woman harrumphed and gathered up her skirts. As she stomped away Sonia stuck out a tongue at her.

"Stop now." Aanya chided her as they sat down to finish the fabric. "If you're not careful she'll match you with Loudin."

"That's not funny!" Sonia looked at her in horrified astonishment. "He has so much hair you hardly notice if he takes his shirt off, and his stink is so great no one can keep a tent within any reach of his!"

After a moment of mock seriousness they burst into laughter, doubling over at the waist and rolling on the soft grass.

Across the camp the little confrontation did not go unnoticed.

"See?" Raif said looking up at his brother "Aanya is too forgiving; Sonia puts them in their place when they talk down to her."

Tristan nodded silently and motioned for him to follow over to the log being used for target practice right outside the camp. He pulled out an ornately carved bow and caressed it, smelling the wood he tested it and handed it to the young man.

"This was fathers bow. He gave it to me when I left, and its twin to Jeriah. Now you have this one and I will take the one meant for the eldest male. When you marry we will carve another for you to pass to your sons."

Raif nodded seriously and took the arrow Tristan handed to him. After a moment of concentration he loosed the bow and the arrow flew straight into the top right portion of the log. Tristan nodded thoughtfully and took an arrow for himself, nodding for Raif to watch his form. He emphasized each slight adjustment of the bow, his fingers, and the arrow and then loosed it. The arrow pierced Raif's splitting it in two.

After a moment of head shaking Raif began again, making the small adjustments like his brother showed him. After a few tries he got the arrow's so close they were touching.

Tristan nodded. "Keep practicing and it will become second nature, adjusting to the wind and the movement of the target will be almost imperceptible to anyone watching."

Raif smiled and walked with him to the log, slowly they began taking out arrows.

"Will you take Aanya as your wife?"

Tristan sighed heavily and pulled two knives out of his boot showing Raif how to smooth the arrows back out.

"Tell me about her."

Raif kept silent for a moment and then nodded as if he had decided Tristan was worthy of this knowledge.

"I was so young I didn't know what was happening at the time. All I knew was there were people from the Fenni coming to stay with us. A crazy man came and Jeriah would take him in when no one else would. The man would tell stories about a woman. Or, that's what I thought they were. After the meal we would sit in the tent and he would tell us about Aanya's dark hair, Aanya's happy smile, Aanya's kind heart. Sometimes he would leave for awhile, but whenever he would come back he would tell us another story.

"It got to where Jeriah or I would ask him how she was, who was caring for her back in his village. He would always say that Aanya cared for all and that the only one's left to look after her where the gods. Eventually he told us they were bringing the village to stay with us and that Aanya would be with them."

Raif smiled a little and shook his head.

"For the whole week Jeriah barely slept, he and Sonia and the others would argue all night about Aanya. Sonia thought she would be just as wonderful as the crazy man said, and I agreed with her, but the others said that certainly a girl with a crazy father would be crazy as well.

"The day she came was bad, her father had been killed on the way back and she had watched him die in the field. Sonia and I had to help prepare the pyres so I didn't see what the elders had done but when we came back to tell them they could bring the bodies Jeriah was screaming over the mans body at our elders and Aanya was being held back by a couple older men from her tribe.

"I guess our elders didn't want him to be burnt with our dead and they had arranged for her to be housed with the elder men of her own tribe since she had no kin."

Tristan looked up at his brother sharply

"She had kin."

"That's what Jeriah said but they ignored him. Eventually they sat down for a council and agreed to burn him in the proper tradition, but they were still going to give her to the elder men. I didn't understand why that was so bad at the time, why Jeriah was so angry. But now I see that they wanted her as a play thing.

"It almost came to a fight, swords were drawn but Aanya stopped it. She insisted they all back down, she said she would be placed where the tribe saw fit and that she would not see any fighting done on her behalf. Then she began to cry, it was as if something had broken inside her. I remember it so clearly because I wanted to go to her. I was so young it should have made me want comfort myself but I wanted to sooth her as Sonia did to me some nights when I thought of father. I think they were all so shocked, they all were just then realizing what fate they had given her that they didn't know what to do next.

"Jeriah came to her slowly; he walked through all the men looking at her as if she had sprouted wings. Sonia followed him and soon Jeriah had picked her up and Sonia and I and the others were surrounding them. He looked at the elders of both of the tribes and told them that she was his wife now, and she was under our protection."

Tristan bundled all the arrows they had straightened and motioned for his brother to continue with the story.

"I don't remember the wedding or the funeral pyres that day either, but from then on she lived in the tent with us. She slept on the roll with Jeriah and sometimes the other brothers would take Sonia and me on watch with them."

Raif lifted his eye brows at Tristan to show that he knew just what his brother and his wife were doing on those nights. Tristan chuckled a little and nodded sagely.

After a breath Raif's face smoothed into a blank mask, something that told Tristan the rest of the story would not have the same bit of goodness in it.

"Then the fighting started. One day one of the brothers came to camp and told all the women and children to leave. Aanya put Sonia and me on a horse but it took two of the brothers to get her to go too. That night after everyone was asleep I heard Jariah whispering to Aanya in the tent. She left to speak with him and I listened in.

"I don't remember all of it, just little pieces. Jariah and the brother along with a couple other men were going to be made examples so that the rest of the tribe would live. Aanya kept whispering that she wouldn't let him that she would kill all the Romans that ever lived. Once she said she would kill herself and he yelled. He said that Sonia's fate would be like hers would have been, he asked her to care for us. She sobbed and then."

Raif looked up, a little embarrassed.

"Then they, you know, took off their clothes and…"

Tristan nodded his head furiously.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

After a long silence Tristan took a deep breath.

"So she stayed with you? Cared for you?"

"Yes, for a little I thought she really would die without Jariah. For a few weeks Sonia would feed her and make her drink water and then Aanya snapped out of it and has cared for us ever since."

Raif looked at his thumbs for a little and huffed a sigh.

"I thought I was going to be an uncle for a little too, but one night Aanya bled all over. I thought for sure she was going to die, but after a while she called for Sonia and me and we all slept together that night in the healers tent. We are family."

Raif looked up at Tristan furiously, conviction deep in his eyes.

"The elders would never let her but she deserves our marks. And Sonia and I should have hers as well. If you take her, you will be good to her. Or I will slit your throat."

There was such a certainty in the young boys eyes Tristan did not dare doubt a word out of his mouth. He gave himself a moment to think and then nodded.

"If Aanya wants me, I will marry her. And we will give her our markings."

Raif's smiled wide and stood to walk back to the camp. Turning around and rising Tristan saw Aanya and Sonia walking towards the edge of the camp to meet them, skipping backwards Raif called out to his big brother.

"It will not take long, you will love her well."

Tristan furrowed his brow a bit at that but as the boy approached her and gave her a true greeting, two kisses on her cheeks, and began describing their day he found himself hoping that was true.

Hoping desperately there was enough love left in him for this girl.

* * *

The flames leapt into the night air as Gawain rocked the baby girl in his arms. It had taken almost four more hours but eventually the baby came out and with it the rest of his sisters' life. With her last breath she made him vow to raise her child himself.

"Etta, Etta" he crooned as the last of the ashes flew in the air.

Galahad came up next to him and stroked the small babe's head.

"One of the midwives found a small skein to feed the baby with, and they found us a goat since there are no mothers with milk in the village."

Gawain nodded and bent down to kiss the baby forehead. Passing her over to Galahads mothers waiting arms he turned to Galahad.

"We need to go find Dagonet's family. Then we need to get all of our family back to Briton where we can keep them safe. Well, as safe as one can ever be in this world."

Galahad nodded sagely and Gawain elbowed him in the ribs with a little grin.

"Will we be taking that woman of your dreams?"

Galahad turned beet red and sighed dramatically.

"Apparently I never spoke to her when I was younger; she is quite possibly the most idiotic annoying woman I have ever encountered. The sooner we head back to Briton the better."

* * *

Hope you liked it!


	6. Chapter 5

Nothing you notice belongs to me :)

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**_Chapter 5_**

******Warning Warning Warning! This chapter's beginning is M for mature!******

Ok so there's a little risqué action in the beginning but it's between two married people so….it's legal!

* * *

"Oh, love, you know they'll be back soon. It's only been three months, it'll take them another two at least if all they did was say hello and turn around."

Guinevere flopped back onto the bed and watched her husband pace the room.

"Yes, but what if…"

Exasperated she pushed herself back up to her feet and began to unlace the bodice of her dress.

"What if what if what if? It will do you no good to worry like that."

Arthur stopped pacing and turned to the window, messing with the buttons on his tunic. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually been worried about the men. Whenever they faced a struggle for the last fifteen years he had been right there charging into battle along side them. Now all he could do was wait and hope they didn't get into trouble.

"Darling, turn around."

Arthur huffed a little sigh and turned beginning to explain to his new bride the reason he was this distraught as of late when the sight of her naked body standing before him stopped the words in his mouth.

Guinevere trailed a hand from her neck to her navel and back and looked at him questioningly.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you too upset to make love to your wife?"

A playful smirk crossed his face as he pulled his tunic roughly over his head.

"Oh no…not tonight Arthur! No chasing!"

Soon he was fully undressed as well and took off after her. They trailed through the bed chamber door into the small study and danced around the desk for a moment. After feigning to the left Guinevere made a go to the right back through the doorway, but she wasn't fast enough.

An arm yanked her back and up against a wall roughly, Arthur's hand disappearing between her legs. She moaned into his collar bone and bucked a little against him, nipping him with her teeth.

"You always like it when I catch you."

"mmmhmmm"

She nodded in assent and turned her head to capture his lips with hers, the playfulness ending.

In another part of the fort a couple, who might as well have been married, quietly conceived a child in the back of their small wooden house while the rest of their eleven children slept soundly.

In the servant's sleeping chambers a young girl clutched a small wooden horse as tears slipped down her cheeks. She'd never thought she could miss a person this much, and wondered how anyone could live with this kind of pain. Not wanting to wake her roommates she rolled onto her side and muffled her sobs into her pillow.

* * *

"I will let you know if I need your services Yanei. I'm quite content to have my freedom for the moment."

A bony wrinkled finger poked into Lancelot's chest and the aging face of the matchmaker smiled a knowing smile up at him.

"You're just afraid of true happiness, boy. Soon you'll see what wonders a beautiful woman will do for you."

He bent and clasped his hand with hers bringing it to his lips with a sly kiss and wink.

"You'll be the first to know when I come to that realization."

The woman walked away laughing and a little blushed.

"Why do you deny the matchmakers?"

Lancelot turned around to playfully glare at his little sister sitting on a rock behind him. She gave him a small smile and motioned for him to sit down, he may not want to talk seriously about this but she was going to pry it out of him one way or another.

"What is her name?"

Lancelot stopped in his tracks to stare blankly at his sister, the notion of her being a truth seer passed quickly through his mind.

"What has Tristan been telling you?"

Aanya's eye's brightened.

"So there is a girl!" She clapped her hands in front of her a few times with delight.

Lancelot sat down hesitantly and eyed his sister. He had thought the years would have pulled them apart, at least made it awkward. But as he had seen with Tristan as well, it seemed that no matter what the time or distance their family would always know them in a way few others would.

"I can't….I don't know if there is or not. It's gone about all the wrong way, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's supposed to be: Girl gets into vulnerable situation, I aid her in some way, she sleeps with me to thank me and probably follows me around until another man takes her interest. With Lainey….I was almost dead before I spoke more than a word to her. After the last battle, she nursed me back to health. Every time my eyes opened there she was. It was like one of Arthur's angels had been sent down to me. Then, once I had healed whenever I went to talk with her she was visibly uncomfortable. I didn't understand it, we'd have these moments where I could tell she had completely relaxed and then I'd touch her hand or she would look into my eyes and it was gone. I've never had a woman extract herself from my presence as expediently as she would."

Aanya smiled the biggest smile she could manage and threw her arms around her brother laughing a little as the absurdity of the situation.

"Oh, Lancelot! You are such an arrogant man, you can't even tell when a girl is truly in love with you!"

Lancelot looked at her questioningly.

"Love?"

"Yes, she's just afraid that all you think of her as is a nursemaid. She probably doesn't think you could feel the way she does and is scared to lead herself on. She's just like everyone else, scared of being hurt. You should take her into your arms and kiss her brains out when we get back to the wall."

She wiggled her eyebrows at him and they leaned on each other for a bit laughing.

Lancelot pulled back and kissed his sisters forehead warmly.

"You're ok with this? Telling them all at the last minute before we leave? We'll never be able to return."

Aanya looked at him soberly.

"I understand all that goes with leaving the tribe this way, but things have changed so much. I would have left before if Sonia and Raif could have survived it. I would not want to live without you or them for even a day."

She smiled and touched his face and he pulled her palm to his mouth and kissed it tenderly, knowing that he would now have to anger her.

"There is something we need to talk about, Aanya."

"What's wrong?"

Lancelot sighed and sat down facing her, both of her hands in his.

"Tristan has asked me for your hand."

Violently she pulled her hands away and began to stand; looking at him as if he has just told her he killed her dog.

"I will not marry."

"Aanya, don't shut me out. Stop it and talk to me." He pulled her back down forcefully and held her forearms.

"We've talked about this already. I told you of my marriage and my bond with his siblings. I will not take away a man's chance for happiness because of some sense of duty. The tribes would not allow it anyways."

"You think Tristan or I care what the tribes think? We'll be gone in a few weeks anyways."

"Yes, but, I don't want to be looked at as someone to take care of because of obligation. What if he met someone he loved? What then?"

Lancelot looked her in the eye.

"What if he loved you?"

Aanya shook her head and looked down at his hands on her arms.

"I can't…I loved Jeriah more than I would think possible for the eight months we were married. Then the baby…I don't know if I could love a man that way again; especially one who looks so much like him, one who shares his blood. I just don't know."

A tear fell down her cheek and Lancelot raised a hand to brush it away.

"Know this; Tristan is not one to do something only because of duty. It plays a part, as it does in all our lives, but if he didn't think he could love you or be a true husband to you he wouldn't have asked me. I told him I would speak with you and give him an answer in a few days. Think about it."

Aanya shook her head and looked at him with a small smirk on her face.

"You are giving him a glowing recommendation."

Lancelot's stare wiped the smirk off her face.

"I owe him my life many times over. He was a brutal warrior but he is a good man, gentle with his sister and he watches you. You won't know he's there but when I'm out hunting or away from camp he's there looking out for you, Raif said he almost attacked one of the elder women for speaking rudely to you."

Aanya blushed and gave a small giggle.

"I will consider this, I love you brother."

Lancelot and Aanya stood and he hugged her hard and kissed her cheeks. He looked after her hoping he was doing the right thing. The protection of him being her brother might be sufficient once they reached the wall, but being a wife of a knight? That would at least ensure that the people would look out for her.

Sighing he signaled to the men preparing for the hunt that he would be along soon and looked around for Tristan. He was in the middle of raising a new tent and as if he had heard his name being called he looked towards where Lancelot stood. His gaze then drifted to find Aanya in the crowd and once again he looked at Lancelot and nodded.

For tonight someone would be watching out for her.

* * *

That night after everyone had gone to their tents and the glowing embers were the only remnants of the fire Aanya left her tent to walk into the dense forest to the west of the camp. She only got a few feet in before she heard his presence. After a while she stopped and sat down on an overturned tree patting the place next to her.

"Sit and talk with me."

Out of the inky shadows Tristan's form emerged and he walked slowly through the brush to sit by her side. He felt a small ache in his heart and the desire to reach out and touch her, to make her his right here and now was almost unbearable.

They sat in silence for a long moment listening to each other breathe then she turned to him. Her dark hair fell in curls down her back and pieces fell all around her face, she pushed some of it behind her ear self consciously.

"What do you want from me?"

Tristan stared at her in the dark, terrified to say the one thing that came to his mind immediately. Instead he took a deep breath and gave her the speech Raif had helped him compose a few days before.

"My brother fell in love with you over stories told by your father. I cannot say if I love you now, but I can say that what I have heard over the years from Lancelot and what Raif and Sonia have told me has made me care for you a great deal. I realize that we don't know each other, I have despair in me but I also have love. I want the chance to know you, to feel what the rest of my family does for you."

Aanya sighed and turned towards the forest to speak. This man got straight to the point, at least it wouldn't be a long drawn our conversation every time she needed to speak with him.

"I don't know if I can love you. I can say that I feel a connection to you, in what way I'm not sure. I will tell my brother when he gets back from the hunt that I accept your hand."

Tristan lifted a hand and turned Aanya to face him. The tips of his fingers grazed her cheek bones softly and Aanya felt something stirring inside of her. She reached her hand up to touch his and faster than she could think his mouth was on hers. Hungrily, he poured himself into her and she wove her hands into his hair pulling him as close as she could. After a moment they disentangled and sat there staring into each others eyes. Suddenly he stood and strode back into the forest, disappearing in the shadows.

After a long moment Aanya took a deep breath, stood, and walked back to camp.

* * *

Gawain felt the cold metal blade sink a little into his throat and wondered when Galahad would get there. It all happened so quickly; one moment Galahad signaled that he was going to double back, the next a man and a woman had gotten him off his horse and onto his knees with a blade at his neck.

The girls short light brown hair was tied back in a chubby tail, small flyway's falling around her thin pixyish face. Her green eye's bore into his as she searched his limbs for his tribal markings. Finally she reached his left ankle and gaped at the swirling design on his calf.

"Bastarnae? You sending scouts already? There are only so many of us left!"

"Stop Zia. Look at his necklace."

The girl in front of him turned to glare into the woods.

"Kaled, stay back."

"He has the ring."

Suddenly the knife on his neck slackened and he was pulled to his feet and turned to face a large man whose short blond hair and beard looked as if he had been rolling around in the forest.

Gawain suspected he had been doing just that, with this Zia, before they heard him coming. As the man's hand began to reach for the necklace Gawain grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Pulling the knife out of his other hand he held it to his neck.

"Doesn't feel so good hu?"

Zia gave a sharp cry and edged forward a bit, both her hands outstretched. The man, Kaled, pulled her back and held his hands up in truce.

"Please, if you knew what we went through in the last year you would understand why we act first and talk later."

Suddenly Galahad emerged from the woods, bow drawn.

"Yes, lets all sit down and have a bit of a talk. Why don't I start? Gawain, if you'd let the young man go."

Gawain grunted and pushed the man away sharply, handing the blade to Kaled and nodded to Galahad.

"Do you know where we can find a man named Dagonet's family? We are his brothers in arms…we've been away quite awhile."

Zia's eyes widened and she grasped the blond mans hand. The blond man stood and Zia and Kaled moved to flank him. Kaled handed him the dagger and he placed it in a sheath on his calf. He nodded to Gawain and Galahad and turned around, lifting his shirt as he did so. In between his shoulder blades were the three circles that represented the Antes, and in the center of the circles were three stars.

"You are the chieftain?"

Gawain pulled the necklace from around his neck and slid the ring off. As the man turned around he handed him the ring and they nodded to each other.

"If you will follow us back to our camp, I will tell you what has happened these fifteen years you have been gone."

Galahad and Gawain gave each other a look, nodded and began walking.

"Our numbers had already dwindled quite a bit. My brother was taken to Rome, Dagonet and Bors to Briton, a couple other boys were taken as well. We will never know if any of them live.

Dagonet's father, my uncle, passed on three years ago. Like I said our numbers had become so small, I was the only male of age with the right blood line. Two years later, after famine and Roman sickness took out about half of our camp, the Carpians attacked."

Galahad cursed and spit on the ground as they continued walking, they were much deeper into the forest than either of them had ever been before.

"They killed almost everyone. We were the only one's to survive. Zia my wife and our daughter Damira, Zia's brother Kaled, my cousin and Dagonet's sister Thana, and me Harith: last of the Antes chieftains.

We try not to stay too close to the tribal lands; we go deeper into the forest every month. There are just so many of them, it's been a year of running and fighting. There were more of us at first, ten more. Now it's just the five of us, trying to survive."

Gawain could smell a fire burning nearby so he understood what he wanted when Harith stopped and turned to him.

"We are here to bring Dagonet's living relatives back to Briton. The Romans have deserted it, and although it is still a bit dangerous there is a chance that we can live a proper life. Raise children without the constant threat of them being taken once they are strong enough to carry a steel sword, fight against a true evil and not our neighbors, and maybe even die with honor in battle."

Harith nodded and turned to keep walking but Kaled and Zia stared at him with such suspicion he began to wonder if this might be a trick of some sort. After a few paces, he found it certainly was not.

There in the middle of the forest next to the smallest fire he had ever seen sat a young girl with straight light brown hair in a braid that laid just below her collar bone, in her lap was a small child with a dirty gray dress on and light blond hair that was matted and curled all down her back.

Her blue eyes bore into him, she didn't exactly look like Dag but he could feel him in her. A tear fell down her cheek and then another. She stood and handed the small girl to Zia and walked over to them. She hugged Harith and Kaled and walked straight up to Gawain and Galahad, looking from one to the other.

"How did my brother die?"

Galahad was the first to move, to take her hand and sit her down by the fire and tell her of their fifteen years of service. After a moment Gawain mentally shook himself and sat next to him, adding and clarifying when necessary. They talked until the sun came up. When Harith, Kaled and Zia woke Gawain, Galahad and Thana slept until almost mid day.

Then, it was time to move.

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**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and favorited and alerted! You = awesome!**


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